


mirror image

by yasgorl



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mirror Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 20:50:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7006003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yasgorl/pseuds/yasgorl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Half the time he thinks he’s never fully out of it, not with Bucky and the promise of what he can do to Steve suspended in the spaces between them like a tangible thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mirror image

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt: #44: “I got the mirror so you can see yourself while I’m fucking you.”

“Hey, hey, would you look at that,” Bucky’s voice calls out from the inner room.

Steve turns away from the floor to ceiling windows lining the west end of their ridiculously lavish suite. Dusk is descending on the city and the vast, cloudless horizon bleeds shades of pastel pink where sky meets earth.

Nat’s cool voice sounds through the comm in Steve’s ear.

“Has he found the rotating bed?”

Steve turns away from the view and walks slowly through the wide, open space of the living room. It’s part of the deal, is what it is. Sometimes it’s missions; suited up, shield in hand. Other times it’s black tie affairs where he has to shake hands and smile until his jaw aches. And of course, doing these sorta things with the whole gang, specifically on Tony’s dime, meant they’d ended up in the gaudiest, most extravagant hotel in the city.

Steve figures there are enough expensive furnishings within a ten foot radius of his body to buy a small country. He still has his stealth suit on from their freshly postponed mission, and he couldn’t feel any more conspicuous than if he had a neon sign hanging over his head.

He stops at the threshold to the bedroom. Bucky’s in the center of a large, circular bed, currently turning in place with a muted, whirring mechanical noise. He’s on his side, head propped in one hand, eyebrows waggling as he spots Steve.

“He found the rotating bed,” Steve replies, deadpan.

Nat huffs out a dry laugh.

*

“Come here,” Bucky says after Steve’s switched his comm off and tossed it on the surface of a nearby dresser. Bucky’s smile is sly and quick. He sticks his arm somewhere off to the side, feeling for something with his fingers, and the bed jerks to a halt.

“Done already?” Steve asks, doing his best to channel how unimpressed he is through a single eyebrow raise. He pulls the shield off his back and leaves it propped up against the dresser, its wooden surface looking so shiny and smooth he half expects it to dent under the pressure like a block of butter.

“Nah, just haven’t shown you the best part yet.”

“It’s got a swirly straw connected to an open - ” Steve’s saying right before Bucky’s arm whips out lightning fast and yanks Steve down on the bed. He lands on his side, sprawled across Bucky’s chest, and Bucky gives him all of half a second before he’s grabbing Steve’s front and pulling him down for a kiss, humming low in his throat.

“Bucky,” Steve tries again, gasping as they pull apart.

“Mm. Missed you,” Bucky mutters.

Then he’s nudging at Steve’s lips with his own and pulling him closer. Steve gets lost in the kiss. It takes so little from Bucky to get Steve right in the mood. Half the time he thinks he’s never fully out of it, not with Bucky and the promise of what he can do to Steve suspended in the spaces between them like a tangible thing. Sometimes he can’t tell if the moments where they can get their hands all over each other need to wedge themselves into everything else in his life or if it’s the other way around, if he’s living for the pockets of time where nothing matters but the two of them together, Bucky’s hands on him and the low, syrup-drawl of his voice and the way Steve’s heart beats like it’s fit to burst out of his chest.

“Saw me all morning and all day yesterday. And the day before,” Steve finally answers when they pull apart again. He’s nudged and pushed at Bucky so eagerly that they’ve worked their way to the headboard. Bucky pushes up on his elbow so his back’s resting against its cushioned surface, letting one arm fall to rest on the ridiculous pile of pillows below him.

“Yeah, but we weren’t doing none of this,” Bucky says, and at that his hand slides down Steve’s back and he grabs a palmful of Steve’s ass. He catches his tongue between his teeth as he smiles, eyes on Steve as Steve’s cheeks heat up.

“I still haven’t seen this great thing you’re all worked up about,” Steve manages to say, without letting his voice wobble too much. He could match Bucky step for step in everything, but voicing some things was still a different matter. He still felt like burning up on the spot with half the things Bucky said in bed sometimes.

“Shut your eyes,” Bucky says simply, grinning wide. Steve rolls his eyes but complies.

“Turn around,” Bucky says. He tugs at Steve’s hip then rearranges himself under Steve, so when they’re done Bucky’s leaning back against the headboard with Steve in between the open vee of his legs, back resting on Bucky’s chest. Steve wriggles back teasingly against him, feeling Bucky’s obvious interest rubbing up against the small of his back.

“Brat,” Bucky mutters, pinching lightly at Steve’s side. Steve grins wide, still ensconced in darkness.

“Now open,” Bucky says. Confusion blooms for all of a second before Steve’s eyes open, and it takes him a moment more to register what he’s seeing before the air leaves his lungs in an excited rush.

There’s a gigantic, spotless mirror on the ceiling over them, shaped in a circle as big as the bed itself so Steve can see it in its entirety, and in the middle themselves reflected. Steve watches as Bucky’s hands slide from his sides up to his chest, palming him over the fabric of his suit.

“Don’t that beat all,” Steve breathes out, shakily. He’s heating up all over, feels like he can’t pull his eyes away from the sight of Bucky’s hands sliding all over his chest and down to his stomach, then back to tilt Steve’s jaw up for a kiss. Bucky leans down so his lips meet Steve’s. The angle’s awkward, it should be completely laughable except for how it’s not, how the image seared in his brain as he closes his eyes and lets Bucky nudge and kiss at him makes his pulse jump and his blood rush south.

“Watch,” Bucky says quietly, pulling back again. Steve’s eyes return to the mirror. He watches his chest move as he breathes, watches Bucky unzipping the front and pulling it open to reveal the tight tank underneath, watches Bucky’s hand slide down to his crotch so he can palm Steve’s dick and give it a firm squeeze.

“Oh,” Steve lets out, pushing his hips up into that delicious pressure.

“Yeah, look at you,” Bucky says, voice low and intimate. “Look at what I get to see.”

It’s senseless because it’s just them after all but it heats Steve up something crazy, the distance and angle making it one step removed, like he’s watching it with a second delay, the image and the experience separated. Steve pushes up and back so his head can fall back on Bucky’s shoulder, and he can rub his ass back against Bucky’s crotch. Bucky squeezes Steve tighter in response, one arm snaking around to hold him at his chest, the other sliding palm down against Steve’s dick over his clothing, gripping up the swelling length then massaging gently at the head.

“Mm, mm,” Steve keeps moaning, craning back eagerly for Bucky’s lips then pulling away to watch in the mirror as it happens. He picks up a rocking rhythm, into Bucky’s hand and back against Bucky’s dick, amped up hearing Bucky’s breath catch and release, go all excited and fast.

It only takes the smallest nudge at Steve’s shoulder to have him sitting up so he can wriggle out of his top and peel off the tank underneath. Then he’s tugging at the opening of Bucky’s pants and taking him out, eagerly stroking Bucky’s swollen, flushed length as Bucky pulls his own top off, tossing it aside. They’re pros at this by now, not enough that Steve’s fingers aren’t slightly shaking as he takes the lube Bucky procures and presses into his hand. Steve preps himself, then slicks Bucky’s length up as Bucky lies back, the only movement being the slight pump of his hips into Steve’s hand and the movement of his chest as he breathes.

“Nuh uh,” Bucky says, and Steve freezes in place. Then he’s turning around and adjusting, leaning back against Bucky’s chest, thighs straining slightly as Bucky lines up.

“Wanna see how you take a dick?” Bucky says, and it takes Steve a second to register that he’s asking Steve, wanting Steve to watch. The position’s slightly awkward but it seems to work all the better for it. Steve watches, resting fully back on Bucky, head on his shoulder, watching as Bucky fits his hands on Steve’s thighs so he can lift him bodily, up then back down on his dick. He watches where their bodies are joined, where Bucky’s thick cock is disappearing into his body even as he feels it plowing up deep inside him, hot and hard and wet.

Steve pulls his arms back so he can grip at the headboard and steadies his feet flat on the mattress. He’s got enough leverage so he can control how slowly he sinks down on it, breathing hard, his chest and neck flushing as he pulls himself back up and down. Bucky’s free to slide his hands from Steve’s hips and up his chest, cupping Steve’s full pecs and rubbing lightly at his nipples.

“Oh,” Steve lets out unsteadily. Bucky rubs with the flat of his fingers then pinches each nipple tight, an electric pulse of pleasure shooting straight to Steve’s dick, making his ass clench down hard.

“Oh fuck,” Steve lets out.

He watches Bucky play with him, slow and teasing, fingers darting away so he can wet them with his tongue, returning to mercilessly pluck and rub at Steve’s nipples. It’s that much filthier somehow, watching it happen, Bucky’s suntanned hands, the slightly rough pads of his calloused fingers, the contrast of them against Steve’s skin. He feels vulnerable, exposed, like he’s turned belly up and shown his throat, Bucky feeling so present, inside Steve and all over him like he’s got him pinned in place.

Steve succumbs completely and lets his body go slack against Bucky’s. They’re almost of a size except for the way Bucky’s broader and thicker than he’s ever been. Steve watches the muscle of Bucky’s arm strain as he holds Steve to him, the dark fall of his hair as he bends his head to kiss at Steve’s throat.

“We make a picture,” Steve gasps out, drunk on image and sensation. Bucky’s circling his hips, his thick cock wedged all the way up in Steve’s gut, making him gasp and sigh as it moves inside him.

“Too bad no one else is ever seeing it,” Bucky grits out, his arm going tight around Steve and Steve gasps out a laugh that ends in a moan as Bucky bites down where he’d been kissing him. God, that’s gonna leave a bruise. Temporary and far too fleeting and suddenly he feels the fierce conflict of it rising up inside him, the selfish yearning to have Bucky’s marks on him last just a little longer.

Steve starts grinding his ass down impatiently and Bucky knows exactly what he wants because he’s instantly right there with him, rising up and pulling out just enough to flip them both around. Steve’s so hot for it the loss of the mirror is only a fleeting thought. He whines out an excited sound as Bucky clamps a strong hand to the back of his neck and shoves his cheek down on the mattress, steadies himself and pushes quickly inside, filling Steve back up. Steve moans out, open-mouthed against the mattress, eyes clenched shut.

“Not a lot we can do with a mirror,” Bucky breathes out. He starts up a rhythm, his hips meeting Steve’s ass with every thrust. It feels so good Steve’s barely hearing Bucky’s words, panting out with every driving thrust, clenching his eyes shut as pleasure sparks and builds low in his gut.

“Need another angle, baby, don’t we. So I can see the whole of you. Watch it again later. You’d do that for me, sweetheart? Watch your sweet ass take it just like this, then you’ll see why I get so crazy for you. You want that, baby?”

Steve’s already nodding his head as best he can, cheek jolting against the mattress as Bucky pounds him, fingers clutching at the sheets.

“Yeah, Bucky. I’d do it,” Steve replies in a rush, voice going high and reedy. Then he’s crying out as Bucky presses in just right, keeps hitting up deep where he’s aching for it, making his heavy cock leak and jerk and it’s right there, right there, “Oh, oh, uh.”

Steve arches as he comes, crying out as Bucky fucks him through it. His dick shoots, come splattering up his chest and to the mattress below, his ass clenching down in pulses on Bucky’s cock. Bucky holds him down, tight on the back of Steve’s neck, the fingers of his other hand digging into the tender skin of Steve’s thigh as he pulls him tight against him. As Steve’s coming down through the aftershocks Bucky grinds up in him and pulls out just enough to jam his dick back in, short little strokes that go wet and filthy as Bucky groans and spills inside Steve.

Bucky’s hands go soft first, the pressure leaving Steve’s neck so that he groans lowly and rolls his forehead against the bed. Bucky cards his fingers through Steve’s hair and tugs gently, then rubs at the back of his neck, his other hand petting at Steve’s side, letting him settle back down slowly. Then he’s gripping Steve’s ass and sliding out slowly, come leaking out and down the back of Steve’s thighs as he does, eyes probably nailed to the sight of it like he always does, watching what he’s done to Steve.

“Perv,” Steve mutters, smiling as he does, but he likes it too, likes how much Bucky likes it, secretly thrilling that Bucky wants to see every part of him.

“You know it,” Bucky replies easily, a shameless grin in his voice. Then he’s out and Steve’s empty, pleasantly sore. He turns away and flops down on his back, stretching his arms out wide. Bucky crawls half over Steve and settles at his side, pressed against him head to toe. He makes like he’s gonna kiss the side of Steve’s jaw, except he puts his face right up against Steve’s ear instead.

“Hey, Steve. Can I turn the bed back on, _oof_ \- ” he whispers, cut off as Steve jabs him in the side. “Alright, alright.”

Then Steve’s huffing out a laugh which turns into helpless, exhausted laughter, and pulling Bucky to him.

Bucky smiles, nudging at Steve’s lips, muffling Steve’s laughter with kisses.


End file.
